


That Would be Enough

by funhousefreak



Series: Satisfaction (not) Guaranteed [5]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Arguments, Comforting, Drinking, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Mentions of alcoholism, Mentions of self-harm, Misunderstandings, Paint Fights, Sexual Content, Some Flashbacks, Suicidal Thoughts, Tord speaks russian to his boss, a week in the life of tord, aftermath of tord and edd's fight, but not encourage his bad behaviors, domestic life, edd is worried and guilty, he just wants the best for matt, matt tries to be supportive, mentions of drug usage, pillow forts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2019-11-08 13:09:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17981951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funhousefreak/pseuds/funhousefreak
Summary: Following the friends' disastrous reunion, Tord struggles through one hell of a week. Included in these 7 days are: apologies, awkward conversations, more arguments, seduction, revealing secrets, flashbacks, even more apologies, and changing relationships.





	1. Stay Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Hey look! I'm not posting at 2am for once! It's a miracle!
> 
> Welcome back to Satisfaction (not) Guaranteed! I'm super excited for this next installation, though it does start slow. I'll try to post the first couple chapters quickly so we can get into the meat of things. But please, bear with me! It'll be worth it, I swear!
> 
> [Side note": You may be asking, "why does it start slow?" This time around, we are sticking pretty strictly to Tord's POV. The first days after the previous "incident," his life is very dull and uninteresting, which is reflected in the writing. So basically, it's Tord's fault.]
> 
> I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Day 1 (Friday)

 

Tord woke up late, later than he had in many years. He’d been in college last time he’d slept past noon. He decided to skip work, which wasn’t saying much, considering his job started at 9:00; he’d already missed the first 3 hours of his shift. He didn’t bother to call in sick—what was the point of doing that now? That led to an angry call from his boss at the electronics workshop. Which he didn’t answer. He got his berating through voicemail, though. He forgot how scary an angry old Russian man could sound.

His bladder felt like it was about to burst, yet still he didn’t move. He took a sip of his long-cold tea that Matt had made him last night. He wanted to spit it out, but didn’t. He wouldn’t let himself. He deserved some sort of punishment after his fuck up yesterday.

An hour later, Matt slid into his room silently. Tord didn’t meet his eyes, but he could feel brilliant green orbs staring at him with concern.

“Tord?”

Said man grunted in response.

“Are you hungry?”

Another grunt.

“Ok, I’ll bring you something.”

Matt returned ten minutes later with bacon and a bowl of Lucky Charms.

“Okay, I need you to sit up, Tord.”

He didn’t move.

“Tord, please.”

Tord saw the plate of food slide onto his side table next to the tea. The bed sagged against new weight. He felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder.

“I know last night was bad. But you’ve got to eat. Everything will be okay.”

Silence.

The weight vanished and the mattress rose again.

“Alright, I’ll let you mope a while. But that food better be gone by dinnertime. I’m ordering Chinese.”

Tord saw his roommate slip out and shut the door quietly behind him.

He then fell into a pattern for the rest of the day. He started by just starting at his bedroom wall, but he found he got bored of that pretty quickly. So instead, he alternated between that, crying, and checking (but not responding to) messages and voicemails.

12 unread texts: Edd

2 unread texts: Tom

4 unread texts: Matt

1 voicemail: Volkov Electronics Repair

2 voicemails: Edd

Edd’s text and calls were all full of concern and remorse. Tom’s messages attempted to be reassuring, but Tord was too caught up in the anger he had fabricated towards him as a teenager to appreciate his words. Matt’s were just asking if he was awake, sent before he’d brought him breakfast.

By the time the sun was setting, Tord had forced himself to go to the bathroom and eat the hard, cold bacon Matt had made him hours before. Matt tried to make eye contact with him when he left his room, but Tord pretended the apartment was empty.

An hour later, Matt brought him a container of fried rice. He didn’t say anything about the untouched cereal. He swapped the plate for the hot rice and left without saying a word. Tord was so out of it, he wasn’t sure if that’d actually happened or not.

He returned to his cycle once ~~imaginary?~~ Matt left. By 22:00, Tord sat up and touched the rice container. It certainly seemed real. He checked his phone again.

10 unread messages: Edd

2 unread messages: Tom

None of them stuck out to him, save for the latest one from Edd.

“Please, Tord. Just respond. Just once.”

He didn’t.

Matt came in at midnight and took the rice to the fridge and dumped the tea out. He came back afterwards and took a seat next to Tord again.

“Tord, look at me.”

Something inside him moved his head to look at his roommate. He felt like a puppet. Perhaps Matt was pulling the strings. He only seemed to be listening to the ginger, after all.

He wasn’t sure he liked that.

Vibrant green met deep blue. A warm hand touched his face.

“Text Edd.”

If it was anyone else, he’d tell them to piss off and butt out. That it’s none of their business.

But Matt wasn’t anyone anymore.

He nodded.

He decided he didn’t like the puppet-master.


	2. Words Don't Reach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord continues moping, but Matt, true to his word, pushes him. The road to recovery can begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all! Sorry I poofed for so long! I wasn't able to edit this chapter before things got crazy, and I haven't had any time to work on this story the last couple weeks. 
> 
> Thank you for being patient! Enjoy!

Day 2 (Saturday) 

           

Matt made Tord get up earlier the next morning. He woke him up with toast and bacon. Tord expected him to set the plate down and leave like yesterday, but he didn’t. He placed a piece of toast against Tord’s lips, a silent command. Tord gave him the worst glare he could muster. He wasn’t a fucking child. And he sure as hell didn’t want to be treated like one. Next time Matt’s sick, he’s going to force-feed him soup or some shit—see how he likes it. Matt took the angry reaction in stride by chuckling and ruffling his hair.

“You’re so grumpy.” He pressed the toast against his chapped lips again.

Tord wanted to growl, but when he opened his mouth, Matt shoved the toast in. Matt doubled over in laughter as Tord choked on the stupid piece of bread.

“Told you I wouldn’t let you mope.”

Tord just glared again. This wasn’t a battle worth fighting.

“Come on, time to shower. You gotta go to work.”

Tord wanted to protest, but he felt the strings moving his bones upwards. Matt set the plate down and headed towards the door, Tord following not far behind. Before his roommate left, he looked back at Tord.

"Did you text Edd?”

_Fuck_.

 

~(*)~

           

He received a verbal ass-whooping at work when he showed up. He ignored the shouts of his boss and just went back to his workstation. He found tinkering and fixing projects relaxing. It kept his mind distracted, which is exactly what he needed right now.

The hours slipped by like water through his fingers. He completed all his assignments, even though he’d been slightly backed-up from his absence yesterday. He even got to work on his pet project for half an hour before going home—a miniature red robot, about 3 feet tall. Originally, he was going to give the finished project to Edd, likely as a birthday gift. But today his mind flashed to Matt and thought maybe he’d like it. Tord had been giving him all the details over the last 18 months, telling him how much he thought Edd would like it, how much it resembled the toy robot they played with as kids. Matt had always just smiled and nodded, occasionally commenting on major developments.

He wanted to hit himself over the head with the wrench he was holding.

He went home that night to find Matt sitting at the table, leftovers on both their plates. Tord couldn’t help but smile.

Before he sat down, Matt, not looking up from his food, asked him, “Did you text Edd?”

_Fuck_.

 

~(*)~

 

Tord flopped back onto his pillows after his shower. He was relieved to be back in his bed finally. Sure, he’d spent the entire previous day there, but today had been exhausting. Despite it being a relatively calm day, save for his reprimand, he always had very little energy on days like this. Days when he was in a depressive episode, or after a fight like this time, meant running on an empty battery. He was just grateful he didn’t have work tomorrow. Though he had already decided to go in and work on his robot, it was still better than having to be around co-workers or tinkering with stupid cell phones and tablets.

Matt’s words kept echoing in his head. And not the ones about his day or the amnesiac patient who tried to escape the hospital 5 times or how incredibly his new eye shadow accentuated his bright green irises. The one’s he’d been repeating the past two days:

“Text Edd.”

God he wanted to avoid this. He didn’t want to talk to Edd. He didn’t want to remember the words exchanged between them. He didn’t want to admit Matt was right. And he sure as hell didn’t want to obey Matt, proving he was just a goddamn puppet.

He stayed up protesting and arguing with himself for another hour or so. But, like a puppet, the strings control you, even if you put up resistance.

In bed at 1:34, Tord sent a text.

“Hey Edd.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone!
> 
> Next chapter is when things are going to finally pick up! Tord's actually going to have to face his problems lol. Next chapter (and all the following ones) will be longer! And hopefully things have settled down (at least for rn) in my life, so I should have time to edit/write/post.
> 
> Also sorry I've been the worst at responding to comments. I'm literal garbage and haven't been answering anything that's not, like, critical and time-sensitive. So apologies for that, but I will get on it I promise! And I really really do appreciate every comment (and Kudos and read)! Comments really do mean the world to me <3
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me! Love y'all! <3


	3. And You Need Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord finally sits down to work things out with Edd. Things don't go smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! Welcome back! Here's our first longer chapter with some actual plot development! Hope you enjoy!

Day 3 (Sunday)

         

Tord woke up to a hot cup of coffee being set down beside him and 3 unread messages from Edd. Oh, right. He had texted him last night, right before bed. He was still amazed that he was able to fall asleep after that, considering the anxiety spike he expected to receive from hitting “send.” Edd’s messages were simple, like his own. “Hi, how are you?” “What’s up?” Basic texts, as if they were only polite acquaintances from work. While Tord sipped his coffee in bed, he crafted his response.

They went back and forth for a while, but agreed that meeting in person was the only real way to resolve this. They decided to meet that evening at a café downtown. The anxiety spike Tord received upon realizing he was going to finally resolve this mess with Edd, _in person_ , made him want to try Tom’s version of a morning drink: coffee with 3 shots of vodka.

After arranging that, Tord threw on some old clothes covered in grease stains and headed to the electronics shop. While it was closed Sundays (perks of working for a semi-religious Russian immigrant), he had a key from all the times he’d had to open shop. Despite the earful he’d gotten yesterday, he was one of Volkov’s favorite employees. The man trusted him more than any other current worker. Tord was the only employee who had a copy of the key, and was the only one with permission to work outside shop hours. Volkov was impressed with Tord’s pet project, and his attempt at encouraging and supporting him was to allow him round-the-clock access to the shop.

Tord quietly entered and shut off the alarm. He immediately went to his work station and drug out the robot from underneath his desk. Though laying in bed and watching anime sounded really nice right now, there were perks to being there off hours. At least he was there alone, could spread out and put some music on. He settled on Bring Me the Horizon and shuffled their entire discography. He needed some emotional angsty music to match his mood. Still, the instant he picked up his toolbox, he felt the anxiety drain from him.

Unlike other Sundays, Tord actually had to keep an eye on the time. He needed to meet Edd by 17:00, and he needed to shower and change before then. He almost let himself slide past the 16:00 deadline he’d decided upon, because of how much progress he was making on the robot. But he knew he needed to move forward in his own life, and this dinner conversation was an important step.

He finished showering and getting dressed by 16:45. He would have rather left a little earlier, so he found himself jogging out the front door. He pretended not to see Matt smiling at him as he passed the sofa.

Actually seeing Edd was by far the worst part of the evening. His stomach dropped upon opening the café door and immediately spotting the familiar green hoodie. He thought he was going to vomit right there and then. He pushed the feeling down like a hammer hitting a nail when Edd caught his glance and waved. Tord faked a smile and waved back before walking over to the table Edd had claimed.

“How are you doing?” his best friend started with once Tord had sat down. Casual enough, but also pointed, knowing Edd.

Hearing his voice was like someone flipped a switch in Tord’s brain. It was a very “Wizard of Oz”-type moment. That voice brought the world back into color, after 3 days of monochrome. Tord hadn’t even noticed how gray the world had become without Edd in it. The tiniest flicker of fear flashed through his mind as he processed that. It was frightening to know Edd could have that much impact on his life, without any effort.

And this was how he knew he was still trapped in Edd’s web, like a doomed fly.

“I’ve…been better.” Tord settled on. Both men heard the click of Tord’s fidget cube from underneath the table. “You?”

“Likewise.”

A silence fell over them. Edd quietly got up to go order food at the counter. Tord dismissed his kind offer to pay for his meal. His leg bounced furiously while Edd was away.

When Edd returned, he sighed as he slid into the uncomfortable wooden chair. Tord watched his every movement with intense interest, as if he hadn’t memorized the way his muscles moved years ago. Edd caught his stare and Tord blushed furiously. Of all the times he was to be caught, it was this evening. Being caught red-handed made him think how creepy it was to watch someone like that. He felt the urge to throw himself in front of a train.

“Tord, I’m sorry,” Edd began, tone remorseful. He looked up to catch Tord’s crystal blue eyes, and the latter man decided this was close enough to being hit by a train.

“For what?” What had Edd done wrong exactly? Hadn’t he been the one to yell? Hadn’t he been the one to incite argument? Hadn’t he been the one tearing their friendships apart for 10 years?

“For assuming things about your private life, instead of just asking you. And for lying about the real issue.” By the constant shifting of his head, Tord could tell he wanted to avert his gaze and avoid him, but he wouldn’t let himself. Tord hated it. He never wanted Edd to struggle to look at him. Edd should always feel comfortable with him. They were best friends—right?

But then Tord replayed his words and he bristled at the term “private life.” Like they were some sort of business associates, not people who’d been best friends since they were 5. Like they hadn’t grown up together and shaped each other’s personalities and lives. Like they hadn’t kissed before and fallen in love.

“‘Private life?’ Edd, you’re my best friend. If anyone knows my life and my secrets, it’s you.”

“I know, but…I should have waited for you to talk to me about it, on your own terms. Not confronted you.”

“Well,” Tord chuckled. He couldn’t believe this. Edd felt guilty, when he had no reason to whatsoever. Edd’s never done him wrong. And this was no exception. “Thank you, Edd, but really, it’s fine.”

Edd didn’t smile or cheer up like he’d expected him to. He just shifted his gaze and fixated on the cracks in the table beneath him. Why wasn’t he happy? Why hadn’t his reassurances worked? This wasn’t right.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What is going on between you and Matt?” Tord stiffened and clicked his fidget cube again. Edd saw and heard both movements. He knew he’d hit a nerve, and Tord could tell that he knew by the look in his eyes.

“I know _something’s_ going on,” he continued, more tentatively this time. “I’ve known you too long not to notice when changes happen.”

Tord tried to laugh, but it came out strangled, like a mix between a cough and a sob. He couldn’t brush this off, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

“We’ve just gotten closer, being roommates and all. That’s it.” He ended the lie with a shrug that was intended to be lighthearted.

“Uh huh, and that’s why Matt wore a bunch of makeup on his neck the other night. And why he kept staring at you during dinner.”

Tord silently cursed Matt for being so obvious. Did he just want to the others to find out? God, even when he tried to avoid any physical signs of his and Matt’s _involvement_ , the ginger still managed to out them.

**Be nice to him. It’s not his fault.**

_It literally is. Why shouldn’t I blame him?_

**Because he was just caring.**

_He doesn’t care about you. He just cares about what you can give him._

**And what’s that?**

_A good fuck_.

“Tord?”

Tord snapped out of his internal bickering for his eyes to refocus on the brunet in front of him. Edd was giving him a concerned look.

“Sorry, yeah. Um…ugh.” Tord groaned and ran his hands down his face. Edd continued watching him patiently. “Yeah, alright. We, um, occasionally have sex. That’s it. Nothing serious.”

“You sure about that?” Edd quirked an eyebrow at him. A waitress came by and slid his plate in front of him. Edd broke his stare to thank her as she slid a second, smaller plate with a grilled cheese over to Tord.

“I said I didn’t want anything.”

“Yeah, but I have a feeling you haven’t been eating well.” Edd grabbed a half of his sandwich and took a bite. “So, what aren’t you telling me?”

Tord looked up from his sandwich and gave him a genuinely confused look. “I’m not hiding anything. That was the truth.”

“Then you clearly aren’t paying attention.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Edd continued eating his sandwich nonchalantly, like he wasn’t tearing Tord’s world apart.

“Matt obviously is into you.”

Tord let out a genuine laugh this time. The statement relaxed him so much that he felt confident enough to take a bite of his own sandwich. He’d forgotten how good food could taste. Why hadn’t he been eating again?

“Good one, Edd.” Tord waved a dismissive hand at his friend. “But this is a strictly no-strings-attached arrangement. Friends-with-benefits, if you will.” Tord could feel his face heating up as he discussed his sex life, but this wasn’t the first time talking to Edd about it. Sure, it was awkward telling the love of your life about this sort of thing, but Tord had practice with turning off his emotions and thoughts during these talks.

“Well, I think someone wants to attach strings, if you know what I mean.”

Tord set his sandwich down and straightened his lips into a tight line. “Edd, no. Trust me, he’s not interested. He’s invested in someone else.”

The knowing smirk that’d taken over Edd’s face fell. “Tom.”

Tord’s neutral line turned into a surprised “O.” “You know?”

Edd followed Tord’s move and stopped eating. “Well, you kind of tipped me off.”

Tord wanted to face palm. God, of course he’d sold Matt out in that fight. He couldn’t just fuck up his own life, he had to drag Matt into this, too.

**He’s going to be so angry with me.**

_Why do you care?_

**He doesn’t deserve this.**

_Why do you care?_

**Because he’s all I’ve got. And now I’m going to lose him, too.**

“Tom also clued me in after you two went home,” Edd continued.

“Oh.” He knew Edd had said that to make him feel better, but that hadn’t done the trick.

“I know I should’ve seen it sooner. I was just…so caught up with Tom that I didn’t see the signs. But _this_ I see. The way he looks at you is how I looked at Tom when I first met him. It’s….” He trailed off, looking down at his half-eaten meal.

“It’s what?” Tord pressed quietly. He hated this. He hated every moment of this. This was much worse than being hit by a train.

“It’s how…you look at me.”

Tord would’ve felt better if Edd had just shot him in the heart. Anything besides those stupid words.

They hadn’t talked about the nature of Tord’s feelings in a long time. Besides their _discussion_ several days prior, they hadn’t gotten in depth on the topic since Edd got engaged. That was nearly a year and a half ago. Both of them liked to avoid those talks. If either of them acknowledged the feelings that laid just below the surface, they’d fall into silence for several days till both of them had sponged their memories. Some details were never relayed, such as Tord’s unhealthy focus on Edd during sex, or how he compared every kiss he had with that failed one in their high school hallway. They were fine not discussing every gritty detail. They were fine not discussing it at all. They wanted to pretend that they were just two average best friends—nothing more, nothing less.

Tord returned to fidgeting with the cube in his lap. He looked anywhere but Edd, refusing to even attempt to address that comment.

“You have no interest in Matt, do you?” Edd broke the tense silence. Part of Tord was grateful for the subject change. The other part felt the walls of the café close in around him and his eyes get hazy. He simply shook his head. Edd sighed.

“Just, be gentle with him, okay? I don’t know what prompted this… _development_ in your relationship. But if things continue, he could get hurt.”

“I’m not going to lead him on, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“I’m not saying anything. I’m just asking you—”

“He knows we are strictly fuckbuddies. The whole point is about….”

Edd looked to him for the end of the sentence. Tord glanced at him quickly, then looked away. Edd didn’t prompt him or press the issue. But the way his facial muscles rearranged themselves suggested to Tord that he had put the pieces together. Another thing for them to never address.

“He’ll be fine, okay?” Tord settled on, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t want to upset him.”

“Okay, good.”

The duo fell into painful silence once more. Edd went back to eating his sandwich, but his movements were stiff and slightly forced. Tord didn’t even look at his. He fiddled with his fidget cube, thumbing the joystick so hard he thought it might break off. It was then that it dawned on him that _he_ hadn’t apologized yet, even though this whole ordeal was his fault.

“I’m sorry.” Edd looked back up at him, having just taken a bite. Tord pushed back the thought that he looked adorable with his puffed out cheeks. “I just realized that I hadn’t apologized for my part of the other night.” He specifically said “my part” to keep Edd from thinking he totally blamed himself. And while he did completely take on that burden, he knew Edd would scold him if he told him the truth.

Once, when they were 19, they’d had an argument. Tord would like to say he’d forgotten what it was about, but he remembered it like it was yesterday. Edd wanted to become roommates with Tom in their university dorms. Tord thought that was a terrible idea, and only about half of his reasoning was based in selfishness. They’d fought for almost 45 minutes before Edd stormed off. Tord spent the evening crying in his hard, cold dorm bunk bed. When Edd returned the next morning, Tord apologized profusely and took all the blame for himself. He hated Edd being angry, especially at him. He couldn’t bear to suffer through another minute of not being on good terms with his best friend. But taking sole responsibility for the fight just made Edd angrier. He didn’t want to be glorified as some saint who could do no wrong. He knew he’d been in the wrong with some of the things he’d said. So, after that day, Tord stopped telling Edd the full truth when he apologized. He always blamed himself entirely, but clearly Edd didn’t like that.

“It’s alright. I didn’t mean to corner you like that. Or force you to talk about painful things.”

“Edd?”

“Yeah?”

“You do want me to move on, right?”

“Well…I mean, yeah. I’ve…always wanted you to. But now, after everything—you know, the marriage, and Matt—I really do. I mean, we just can’t keep going on like this.”

“That’s what you said the other night.”

“And I meant it. That’s why I’m saying it again.”

“What happens if I can’t move on?”

Tord wished he hadn’t looked up to see Edd’s reaction. At first he looked surprised: eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open. Then it warped into sadness, his eyebrows falling and his lips curving as far down as they possibly could. Once again, Tord found himself wishing Edd had just shot him, or slit his throat, or hang him with a noose.

“Ok, I get it,” Tord whispered. He then pushed himself away from the table and stood up. He felt like he was suffocating. He didn’t notice that his face was wet until his hand instinctively wiped at the wetness on his cheek.

“Shit, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“How could you know what I meant by that if you weren’t thinking it, too?

“It was just a guess!” Edd pleaded. He was desperate; Tord could see it in his eyes. Desperate to unravel the mess he had tangled himself into. But Tord wasn’t letting this one slip. Not this time.

“Tord, please,” Edd continued. “We’ve known each other for so long, of course we can tell what the other’s thinking!”

“Which is how I know that we are thinking the exact same thing.”

Edd clamped his mouth shut as fear took hold of his expression. He’d screwed himself over with his own logic.

“I just…I can’t do this right now. I think I need to go home.” Edd just nodded, his guilty expression returning.

Tord shoved his hands in his pockets, desperately trying not to show Edd how shaky and unsteady he was. He stumbled to the door and walked out, not giving his supposed best friend a second glance.

When he got home, Matt tried to ask him how dinner went. Tord said nothing. He ran into his room and slammed the door.

Matt brought a cup of tea 10 minutes later. Tord tried his hardest not to reach out and grab Matt, but his will wasn’t strong enough. He wrapped his arms around one of the ginger’s and yanked him towards him. Matt tumbled onto the bed on top of him at the force of the pull. Tord rearranged his arms to wrap around Matt’s back. The latter didn’t ask questions. He just rested his chin atop Tord’s head and let his hand rest on his cheek. He kept whispering “I’m sorry.” He pressed a soft kiss to the top of the Norwegian’s head.

Despite his attempts to push the thoughts down, all Tord could think was:

**_Edd was right._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! Hope you enjoyed! I'll be back within the next couple days with another chapter. See you then! <3


	4. Say No to This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord has a lot to think about after his discussion with Edd the previous evening. And as much as he wants to prove Edd wrong, the evidence is stacking up, and it's not in his favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Welcome back! Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is a bit of a connector between last chapter and next chapter, but I still like how it turned out. I hope you do too!

Day 4 (Monday) 

 

Tord woke up to a brand new situation: Matt sleeping beside him. Though they’d had plenty of “sleepovers” before, Matt always woke up before him and left to go to work or at least to shower. When they fell asleep in Matt’s room, Tord always snuck out part way through the night. But this morning was new territory.

Tord refused to think about it, or about what Edd had said last night. Sleeping together—actually _sleeping_ together—is such a romantic gesture. Well, at least in Tord’s mind. No one in his life had ever casually done that. His mom and dad had slept together, till their marriage began falling apart. His friends Paul and Pat slept in the same bed, but they’d been dating since high school. Edd and Tom only began regularly sleeping in the same room when they got engaged.

There was one instance Tord could think of that hadn't been romantic. When he and Edd were little, they used to sleep in the same bed during sleepovers. But by the time puberty hit, and notably after Tord kissed him, Edd slept on the couch whenever he came over. He remembered how badly that had hurt him. He’d cried when Edd left the room the first time. He was sure Edd heard him, though he prayed the other teen would never mention it. He didn’t. Their vow of silence on Tord’s unrequited love was sealed that day.

Those memories hurt. Worse than they probably should 10 years later. So Tord shoved them back and went to make coffee. He debated trying to run to work without waking Matt. He couldn’t decide what was worse—seeing the ginger upon waking up, them both painfully aware of the situation, or running out without a word and burying the issue. If anyone outside the situation heard his thoughts, they’d assume he’d had sex with Matt. It was so ironic how that was so easy to admit to and think about without a care. But to sleep in the same bed? That required all his brain power and made him want to puke from anxiety and god he needed more coffee to deal with this.

As usual, he got too lost in his thoughts, and so the decision was made for him. He slid back into his room, threw on his work tee-shirt and an old pair of blue jeans, and left for work. Matt didn’t even stir when he closed the door.

He came home around 18:00 that night, having stayed late working on his robot. He wasn’t even avoiding Matt at that point. He’d just genuinely gotten wrapped up in his work. The little robot was getting closer and closer to being fully operational. He felt himself getting excited at the prospect of giving it to Matt. Though his roommate was no tech nerd or robot-enthusiast, he always expressed interest in Tord’s work. In the silence of the after-hours workshop, a thought struck him: perhaps Matt was interested in it because it was _Tord’s_ work. Because he was interested in _Tord._ That was the nail in the coffin, and Tord put his tools away for the day.

Tord walked through the front door to find the apartment empty. A wave of panic hit him. He’d upset Matt by sneaking out this morning.

**Oh god, he’s hurt. Or worse, mad.**

_Why the fuck do you care? He’s just your fuck buddy._

**He’s my friend, too.**

_Right, that’s it._

Great, now the voices were bickering again. Just what he needed. He wanted to bang his head against the wall, but he restrained himself. Last time he’d done it, Matt had caught him and freaked out. Threatened to take him to the hospital, afraid he’d given himself a concussion. Tord stopped doing it after that.

Sound familiar?

To his relief, though, Matt had left a note on the coffeemaker:

“Tord-

Got called into work on an emergency. Hospital’s really short-staffed right now. Hopefully won’t be too late. If I’m not home by 19:00 (or if you get too hungry), go ahead and eat.

Hope you had a good day!

-Matt”

There was a precious smiley face after the exclamation point on the last sentence. Matt had even dotted it so it looked like it had freckles, like him.

Tord wasn’t sure what the emotion he was feeling was, but any appetite he’d had vanished in a fog of nausea. He set the note down before going to shower. He let the steaming hot water threaten to burn his skin. He washed his hair and face gruffly, as if scrubbing them harder would wipe away his confused thoughts. He turned the water off and grabbed a towel when his forehead started bleeding.

When he left the bathroom, he headed back to the kitchen instead of his room, despite that his hair was still dripping and he was only in a towel. He grabbed Matt’s note and scurried to the safety of his bedroom. That Matt had breached by sleeping in last night. Right. Fuck.

He lost track of time again, though at least he’d been watching anime and not just staring at a wall. What jerked him back into reality was the closing of the front door. He picked up his phone and checked the screen. 21:34. Holy shit. He also had 14 unread messages from Edd.

_Talk to him._

**About what?**

_Anything. Just talk to him._

**No. Not yet. I need more time.**

_To what? Debate over whether or not he really wants to be your friend? Over whether or not Matt loves you?_

**Stop. Don’t say that.**

_Oh, what? Afraid of the old “l-word” are we? Grow the fuck up. You’ve been saying you love Edd for a decade._

**Don’t say it in connection to Matt.**

_Oh, please. You know it’s true. Edd’s always right. That pathetic ginger is head over heels for your broken ass._

**Don’t call him pathetic.**

_We’re just two halves of one mind. You’re the one who thinks that._

**Matt’s about my only friend at this point. He’s all I’ve got left.**

_No,_ Edd _is everything. Matt is just holding his place until Edd gets his head out of his ass and realizes how much better you are than Tom._

“Tord?”

Tord almost jumped at the voice outside his door. He laid his head in his hands, feeling a migraine blooming. He was getting bad again. He hadn’t had an episode like this since before the wedding. Maybe he should try asking Matt to sneak him anti-depressants again, even though he never would.

“Hey, sorry,” Tord replied, massaging his temples.

“Can I come in?”

_No._

“Yeah.”

Matt opened the door quietly. He didn’t leave the doorway, which was a bit of a relief to Tord. He wasn’t sure he could handle Matt being close to him right now. The latter was still dressed in his hospital scrubs. Indeed, they had a bit of blood on the stomach area. Tord eyes widened when he noticed that.

“Are you okay?”

“What?” Matt asked, confused. He glanced down and remembered what he was wearing. “Oh, yeah,” he chuckled. “I was helping in the ER and we had a big trauma case. Bus crash.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah. I brought these home so I could wash them. Didn’t want to have to wear them dirty again tomorrow.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Matt laughed. It looked like that was first time all day that he’d smiled. Tord wondered why he hadn’t had a reason to smile before now. And why it was Tord’s shitty monotone comment that made it appear.

“I see you got my note?” Matt nodded his head towards Tord’s bedside table. The Norwegian glanced over to find, to his horror, he’d left the note out. Fuck, he’d meant to put that away in a drawer. Somewhere where Matt would never find it, where he’d never know Tord had kept it.

“Oh, y-yeah,” Tord stumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up.

_God, fucking stop._

**You think I want to look like this?**

Tord winced as a stab on pain hit his temples.

“Tord? Are you okay?”

“Just got a bad headache.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Can I get you some painkillers?”

Tord shook his head. “Thank you, though.”

“Yeah, of course. Have you eaten?”

“No, but I’m not hungry. Go ahead without me.”

“Are you sure?” Matt’s smile and scrunched forehead read: concern. But his eyes told another story. They were a request, a plea, a demand: _please_.

“Yeah, I don’t want to puke or anything.” The begging in Matt’s eyes melted into sadness.

“Okay. Just shout if you need anything. Goodnight, Tord.”

“Thanks. Night, Matt.”

Matt lingered in the doorway a second longer than was normal for someone making their exit. It didn’t go unnoticed by Tord. Half of him wanted to stretch his arm out and say, “Wait. Don’t go, stay a little longer.” The other half wanted to lock the door behind him and bury himself under layers of blankets.

**I’m getting soft.**

_And he’s getting bolder._

**Fuck.**

_That much we can agree on._

Tord flopped back against his pillows. The ache in his skull was getting worse. But he wasn’t going to treat it, not tonight. He needed to suffer through this. It was his own fault. Maybe this would teach him not to slip up.

He couldn’t deny one thing, though, and it made the pain worse: He was already missing listening to Matt talk about how his day was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading/commenting/Kudosing! Every little thing means a lot to me!
> 
> Also I swear I will respond to comments soon! I am soooo sorry! Depression is just kicking my ass rn.
> 
> Also also, next chapter is why this fic is rated E. While there isn't actual sex, there is a sexual interaction. If you aren't comfy with sexy stuff, you're welcome to skip it! However, there is plot at a certain point, which I will denote in the text. So just make sure you don't miss that!
> 
> See y'all soon!


	5. Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord and Matt have one of their weekly "meetings," but, just like everything this week, it's a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back everyone! I really like how this chapter turned out, so I hope y'all do too!
> 
> CW: sexual content, smoking

Day 5 (Tuesday)

 

Tord was relieved to wake up to find himself alone. But immediately after the relief faded, which only took seconds, another emotion hit him. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of thinking about it.

He got ready for work like any normal morning. He took a quick shower to wake up, drank some coffee, got dressed. He gave Matt a simple wave as he headed out the front door. His roommate was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing his own coffee. He still had sleep in his eyes and a dopey, I-just-woke-up grin. Tord hated how it felt like a sucker punch to his gut.

Work was normal, uneventful. There’d been too many jobs for him to work on his own project, but that wasn’t surprising. Middle of the week was usually when they were busiest—everyone wanted their gadgets ready for the weekend. Tord debated staying late and working on his little robot, but decided against it. He was still recovering from his bitch of a headache from last night, and his stomach had been in knots since then. He was genuinely surprised he hadn’t puked yet.

He came back to an empty apartment for the second night in a row. This week just kept getting odder and odder. He took a quick shower and proceeded to his nightly routine of watching anime on his laptop. Around 20:00, he heard the click of the front door lock. He hopped off his bed with more enthusiasm than he cared to admit to. He opened his door right as Matt closed the front one. When his roommate turned around, he flashed Tord a tired but kind smile.

“Evening, Tord,” he greeted with a small wave. Tord returned the gesture. “Have you eaten?”

“No, my stomach’s been a little bitch all day.”

Matt laughed and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “Well, I was thinking pizza? If that’s okay with you?”

“Sounds good.” In all honesty, Tord still felt like puking his guts out, but he swallowed the unsettling feeling. He knew he needed to eat something, and he also knew Matt would get on his case if he skipped dinner yet again.

Matt smiled again before heading to his room to order the food, change, and shower. Tord moved his laptop out to the living room so he could hear the delivery guy knock. One full episode later, and their food was ready.

The duo sat at the table and talked about their days. Tord mostly just listened to Matt, but he preferred it that way. His day had been dull enough as it was. At least his friend worked in a hospital, where people always teetered on the edge of life and death. That was interesting! Kept you on the edge of your seat! And after several years of working there, Matt had gotten good at telling stories. He included dramatic pauses and sound effects and plot twists. Sometimes Tord wondered how accurate these tales were, but he never asked. He liked not knowing where the line between truth and lie was.

Well, most of the time.

By the time Matt finished regaling him, it was nearly 22:00. Tord helped do dishes, then excused himself for the evening. He only had 4 episodes left of “Mob Psycho,” and he really wanted to finish it tonight. After all, he wouldn’t have time tomorrow night.

But to his surprise, a knock sounded at his door about an hour and a half later. Tord paused his show, forehead creased with confusion.

“Come in,” he called. His door opened just enough so Matt could stick his head in. The ginger was flushed and looked anxious. Tord cocked an eyebrow, his confusion growing.

“What’s up?” he asked, hoping Matt would provide some sort of explanation.

“Oh, um, right,” his roommate stumbled with a clear of his throat. “Sorry, I was just going to ask a favor.”

“Alright, what is it?” Tord could feel himself getting annoyed. He didn’t like beating around the bush, especially when he was tired. But he knew that was hypocritical to say and, frankly, not totally true anymore.

**Don’t get too impatient. We don’t want to scare him off.**

_Why not? He’s only good for one thing, and that isn’t until tomorrow._

“So, I have to cover someone’s shift tomorrow night. So, I um, was wondering if you maybe…wouldn’t mind moving our…plans up to tonight?”

**_Oh._ **

Tord glanced down at his laptop. 23:32. As long as he wasn’t up later than 1:30 or 2:00, he’d be fine.

“Yeah, sure. I just can’t stay up all night.”

“Oh, right, of course!”

Tord closed his laptop and set it gently on the floor. He threw the covers off his legs and leaned back against his pillows. He beckoned Matt closer with a curl of his index finger, which only made the latter blush harder. Nevertheless, he opened the door wider to allow himself entrance into the room. Tord didn’t even hear the door close behind him; he was far too distracted by the sight in front of him.

Matt had lingerie on.

This was new territory. _Very_ new territory. They never dressed up for their rendezvouses; hell, usually they dressed _down_ for them. But Matt looked absolutely stunning tonight. He had a lacy black nightgown on that stopped at the top of his thighs. It had thin straps holding it up, since Matt didn’t have the chest to do it for him. Underneath it, and just barely visible, was a pair of silk pink underwear. Though he’d clearly gotten an extra-large size, his dick still stood out prominently against the front of the fabric. And as if that wasn’t distracting enough, he had put on some makeup, namely mascara and lipstick. He was sporting a killer smoky-eye, something Tord hadn’t seen him wear since high school. His lipstick was a deep purple, a new color for him. And, by god, it looked good on him.

**That’s going to stain.**

_Yes, it fucking is._

**_Make sure it only gets on places covered by clothes._ **

Tord hadn’t realized his jaw was hanging on the floor till Matt pushed it back up and closed his mouth. Tord blushed furiously, but didn’t look away. He locked eyes with the ginger above him. He had a wide smirk on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it was working like a charm. He drew his hand back slowly, dragging his fingertips nimbly across Tord’s chin.

“Like what you see?” Oh god, that was such a sexy voice.

Tord was desperately trying to find his usual confidence and ego that he had in the bedroom. This was the one place he felt in control and powerful, but that was being torn from him the longer he stared at Matt. Sure, Matt had topped once or twice, but never to this degree. He’d never dressed up, or put makeup on, or talked sexy, or looked so goddamn confident. But tonight he was the whole package.

Tord refused to acknowledge that he was getting hard just from Matt’s looks and aura of power. It didn’t go unnoticed by Matt, though, whose smirk somehow managed to widen.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he purred.

And before Tord could stop him, he crashed his lips against Tord’s.

The shorter man could practically feel the purple lipstick sinking into his flesh, there to stay for however long it could hold on for. His mind didn’t linger on that for too long, though, as he was becoming completely engrossed in Matt’s actions. The ginger wasn’t taking it slow tonight, which Tord was more than fine with. His tongue was already inside Tord’s mouth, and he didn’t even put up an effort to fight it. He obediently let the tongue search his mouth. He let out a quiet groan as Matt tangled his fingers in his hair and pulled ever-so-slightly. He knew where this was leading, and he couldn’t deny how excited he was.

Sure enough, Matt made his way up his scalp till he was yanking roughly on one of his devil horns. Tord flat-out moaned at the tug, a hand reaching out to grab his partner’s flimsy clothing for some bit of support. He felt Matt’s lips tug upwards in a grin—that must be exactly the reaction he wanted. Tord hated to admit it, but he’d do about anything Matt wanted right now if it’d get him closer to sex. If this is what Matt wanted from him, he was more than happy to oblige.

Matt suddenly pulled away, then shoved Tord forcefully back onto his pillows. He climbed on top of him, placing a leg on either side of Tord’s hips so he was straddled. Tord both loathed and loved the look in his friend’s eyes right now. He’d had sex enough to know exactly what it meant: torture. Matt was going to torture him, to drag out every last whimper and moan and cry he could possibly muster. Tord was so fucked. And that excitement went straight to his dick.

Just as predicted, Matt did want to rile him up. The taller man leaned forward ever-so-slightly and ground his crotch lightly against the tent in Tord’s boxers. Instinctively, Tord’s hands flew up to his mouth to silence himself, but Matt reached up and pinned his arms above his head.

“Ah ah ah,” he taunted, mock disappointment in his voice. “No silencing yourself. I want to hear everything you have to say.”

Tord hated himself for it, but he nodded. He felt like an obedient dog, listening to his master’s every command. But when Matt rubbed their crotches together again, the thoughts dissipated and he decided that he’d be his bitch for the night if it meant more of that.

Matt leaned forward again and, without warning, bit down harshly on Tord’s neck. The shorter man gasped, taken by surprise. Matt sucked on the bite, flicking his tongue across it every so often. Tord let out a quiet sigh, before his partner released that patch of flesh and moved to another. This time, Tord moaned. He subconsciously raised his legs and wrapped them around Matt’s hips, desperate for more friction. Matt chuckled darkly against his neck. He let go of the skin and moved up to Tord’s ear.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” he asked seductively, before pinching the earlobe between his teeth. Tord’s arms wound around his torso, and he just barely dug his nails into the ginger’s nightgown.

Matt ground against him again, this time with more pressure. Tord threw his head back. He was halfway through slipping Edd’s name out when he suddenly felt a firm hand cover his mouth. He opened his eyes to find Matt starting intensely down at him, the smugness and narcissism gone from his expression.

“No,” he commanded.

Tord attempted to say “what” underneath the freckle-spotted hand, but the noise was completely muffled. A spike of adrenaline hit his veins as anxiety made his heart pound.

“Don’t use his name. Say _my_ name.”

Matt removed his hand from Tord’s mouth slowly and set it next to his face. It seemed gentle enough, but Tord could tell it was very purposeful. He was keeping it close by in case Tord disobeyed. He stared up at Matt with bewildered eyes. What was going on?

They’d never done anything remotely like this together. And sure, while this seemed mild enough, Tord wanted to discuss before hand. Shouldn’t they establish a safe word or something? But the thing is, Tord knew Matt would agree with him on all of this. Matt was always so caring and considerate of others’ needs, especially Tord’s. There’s no way he would do this without permission. Which could only mean one thing:

This wasn’t a part of an act. This was real.

_The fuck is he doing?_

**I don’t know.**

**_He’s freaking me out._ **

“M-matt.”

Said man sat up again as his face melted back into it’s former sexy, egotistical smirk.

“Much better.”

Matt attempted to dive back in towards his neck to continue covering him in lipstick-outlined hickies, but Tord shoved his head backwards. Matt squinted at him in confusion.

_That’s right, make him stop. Get him away from me._

“Tord?”

Tord unwrapped his legs from around Matt and shoved his whole body backwards. He landed on his back with his head at the foot of the bed. He blinked in surprise, confused by the turn of events. Tord curled his legs up towards his chest, holding them tight by twining his arms around them.

“What the _fuck_ was that about?” he demanded. He’d meant to be loud, to sound menacing. But it came out as more of a whimper, a quiet voice of fear. Matt flinched at, what for Tord, was a very unusual tone.

“It was just part of the persona!” Matt tried. He raised his hands in a “I surrender” motion. “I didn’t mean anything by it!”

“Bullshit!” This time his voice was loud. It was actually close to a shout. Matt averted his eyes.

_Good. He needs to know that he fucked up._

**Agreed.**

“I know you too well. If you really wanted to do that to be kinky, you would have run it by me first. You…you scared the shit out of me.”

Matt reached a hand towards him, but Tord shot him a warning glare. The freckled-hand retreated as its owner let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry. It…it was an accident, I swear! I wasn’t thinking—”

“No shit,” Tord muttered under his breath.

“I know, I’m sorry! It’ll never happen again!”

“That isn’t good enough!” Tord yelled. He released his legs so that he could balls his hands into fists.

“This isn’t a fucking game,” he continued, his voice falling quieter once more. “This arrangement has one purpose, and one purpose only. And that’s to distract ourselves from the disaster that is our lives!”

“Exactly!” Matt agreed. He was clambering for any sort of out from this. Tord could see the desperation in his eyes. Matt crawled on his hands and knees towards him, but the latter clenched his fists tighter. Matt got the message and sat back on his legs. “Doesn’t it help to disconnect ourselves from them and just be here? With each other?”

“No!” Tord’s voice was back to a shout. “I want to fucking pretend that I’m with the man I love!”

And for the second time that evening, Matt’s façade broke. Anger consumed his face—no, that wasn’t right. It was something else. Rage? Hatred? God, what was it?

“Well, I’m not some mannequin that you can just project Edd’s face onto!”

Tord was ready to spit another argument back, but he froze when he studied Matt’s face a bit harder. There ware streaks of black running down his cheeks. His green eyes were overflowing with liquid. He was crying.

Ah, right, that’s what it was: sadness. A deep-seated, anger-infused sadness.

Tord’s distraction gave Matt a perfect opportunity. He scrambled off the bed and stepped towards the door. Tord watched his every move, afraid he’d move change course and come back to him. Matt just stood there, staring him down, trying hard not to sniffle.

“I’m tired of being used by you! And _I’m_ tired of using _you_! We’re both real people with real feelings, goddamnit! If you want to fuck to fix your emotional constipation, call a fucking prostitute! But leave me out of it!”

Tord opened his mouth to respond, but Matt was already slamming the door behind him. He realized as he heard Matt’s door click close that he hadn’t actually known what he was going to say. He lightly ran his fingers over his new hickies, and he could feel the stickiness of the purple lipstick still on them. He moved one arm up to his face and wiped his lips across the back of it. Purple smeared all over his skin.

He sighed loudly as he flopped back down. He gave himself a moment to lay in silence before letting thoughts enter his head.

_Told you he was too invested. He was good for one thing, and he blew it._

**I blew it, too. It wasn’t all his fault.**

_No, you didn’t. He put emotions into the equation. That’s what caused the explosion._

**But I knew things were drifting that way and I didn’t stop it.**

_Not your fault he’s stupid and can’t keep his feelings out of this. You both came for the sex, and now you both left empty-handed._

**I didn’t mean to upset him.**

_He came onto_ you. _He got possessive of_ you. _He put his hand aggressively on_ you _._

**And I liked it. Up until that last part.**

_Don’t say that. Your dick liked it. You still want Edd._

**Yeah.**

_And that last bit was awful._

**Yeah.**

_Yeah._

Once even the voices in his head got tired, he got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. He spent the next half an hour scrubbing his lips, neck, and arm trying to get the purple lipstick off. He stole a couple of Matt’s make-up remover wipes, but they weren’t helping much. While he got most of it off, his skin felt raw afterwards. He tried not to think about it as he returned to his room.

He changed clothes, opting for an old concert tee-shirt and clean boxers. He didn’t want to remember Matt’s hands touching him. He didn’t even want his skin cells lingering on his clothes. He debated dredging up his old turtleneck from college to wear to work tomorrow, but he didn’t have the energy to look for it. He’d just have to settle for makeup on his neck.

Tord opened his bedroom window and leaned against the sill. He took his lighter from his bedside table and lit up a cigar. He made sure to keep the lit end outside the window, and to only exhale outside. For a split second, his brain told him to press the fiery tobacco to his arm. The thought faded as fast as it had come. He let out another long exhale before stubbing it out on the window sill and discarding it in his trashcan.

As he crawled into bed once again, a sea of thoughts tried to bombard him. He closed his eyes in hopes of escape but only saw Matt, gorgeous and tantalizing and sexy, staring into his eyes as he held his chin. But then he flashed to the hand over his mouth, their shouts, his tears. He opened his eyes again. He opened his bedside drawer and dug around for his pill bottle. The palm of his hand brushed against the note Matt had left for him yesterday evening. He shoved down the thoughts that note brought to mind as he finally wrapped his fingers around a bottle of melatonin.

He took one then tried to close his eyes again. He felt hands on him, lips tickling his neck, crotch rubbing against his. His dick considered perking up, but the immediate onslaught of the bitter end of the evening shot that down fast. Great, he couldn’t even enjoy jerking himself off tonight.

How did things turn into such a fucking nightmare?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! I'm super excited to show y'all these last two chapters! It's gonna be fun!
> 
> Thanks as always for reading/commenting/kudosing! Love y'all! <3 See you in a couple of days!


	6. Take a Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their fight, Tord and Matt aren't speaking. So Tord decides it's time to fix things with his other friends and figure out a way to begin repairing things with his roommate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Welcome back! This chapter is a bit different, in that it focuses more on text messages and flashbacks. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> And as we're getting to the end of this segment, I've finished writing the next part of the story! It'll be a one-shot again, but it'll be fun :)

Day 6 (Wednesday)

 

Tord seriously considered not going to work that day. Missing twice in less than a week would piss Volkov off to no end, maybe enough to put his job on the line. But he was still the favorite, right? Maybe, just maybe, he could get away with it one more time.

No, he finally reasoned. He couldn’t risk his job, no matter how much he wanted to fling himself off a building right now. This place was perfect—not too high intensity, boss was a bit of a dick but loved him, he had time and resources to work on his own projects, not god-awful hours. He would never find anything near as good as this arrangement. Hell, he wasn’t even confident he could get another job. He didn’t exactly interview well, especially with his record of inane criminal activity when he was a teen. He was just lucky Volkov also had a criminal history and wasn’t the most legal immigrant. Truth be told, Tord was pretty sure his boss has been a pretty high-ranking KBG agent in the USSR, which he respected.

He let his eyes slip close as he remembered his rebel days. He’d been such a stupid, angsty teenager. Particularly after Edd rejected him, and even more so after Tom entered their lives. While Tord took him as direct competition for his best friend’s love, Tom was also a misfit. He’d been skipping around between foster homes for almost a decade. He’d ran away from 5 of them. By 14, he’d developed a firm addiction to alcohol. He’d gotten kicked out of his last foster home when he got caught smoking weed at 3:00 in the morning with a gang of tattooed, pierced 20-something-year-olds in the local park by the cops. So, even though he was jealous of the eyeless teen, he became his partner in crime of sorts. They’d sneak around town and drink and smoke and do drugs until morning light. Their favorite spot was the old abandoned paper mill on the outskirts of town. That’s where Tord got his first trespassing charge.

After that, Tom started becoming more hesitant about their little adventures. He’d still go most nights, but only with promises of no trespassing or stealing. When Tord got caught stealing cigarettes from a corner store one night on his own, Tom stopped joining him completely. That was the unraveling of any sort of friendship the two had. Tord had been jealous of Tom from day one, but now he also felt abandoned. It’d take a long time for him to forgive him for that. Especially because Tom’s reason for ditching him was that he loved Edd (and Matt and him ~~but that was more of an afterthought~~ ) and didn’t want to get shipped away again.

Senior year, Matt had started hanging out with him a lot more. Most evenings, they’d go over to one of their houses and do homework. After nightfall, Tord would walk out without a word. Matt started following him. He’d stand in the shadows and watch Tord steal alcohol and smokes or do drug deals in dark alleyways. He’d sit with Tord in whatever strange spot he settled on—an abandoned house or factory, the darkest corner of the park, the cabin of the late woodsmen in the forest. He never partook in the activities, just watched. If Tord got drunk or high enough, he’d sob about Edd and how much he loved him and how life wasn’t fair. Matt would hold him, and by morning Tord would wake up in his own bed. He never remembered how he got there. He and Matt never spoke about it.

He would do almost anything to expunge his record. He hated how stupidly his teenage angst had manifested. He hated that the only thing Tom and him could bond over was their addictions and love of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He hated how Matt had had to take care of him.

**Just like he is now.**

Tord let out a long groan. The return of his 2-sided thoughts was his sign to get out of bed. He rolled out of bed and threw his company polo and black jeans on. He grabbed a thermos of coffee before running out the door, realizing he only had 10 minutes to get to the workshop.

While he had plenty of work to keep him busy today, he couldn’t quiet his thoughts. By lunchtime, he had promised himself that he’d text Edd after work and sort things out. He spent the afternoon debating whether or not he should text Tom to ask for advice on what to do about Matt. He knew he needed to apologize to his roommate, but he didn’t know how. Words wouldn’t be enough; he knew that much. It took another full 2 hours for him to think of a (hopefully) better plan. Though he decided to text Tom for advice anyways.

By 17:00, his coworkers had all clocked out and made their way home. Volkov popped into the workshop before locking up to find the Norwegian still working tirelessly.

“Tord, you staying late?” the Russian asked in his monotone voice.

“Yes, just for a bit.” He didn’t even look up from his work. He momentarily worried that would anger his boss, but then he remembered how much he valued work ethic.

“Alright. До свидания.”

“До свидания.”

He and Volkov may have their differences, but speaking Russian was not one of them.

Tord hunched himself over his workstation, paying no attention to time. As soon as Volkov left, Tord got his phone out and texted Edd.

            Tord: Hey Edd.

**Don’t apologize.**

It took every ounce of his self-restraint to not type the words “I’m sorry” before hitting send.

He then sent a message to Tom.

            Tord: Hi Tom. I’m sorry for fucking up dinner last week. I know this is weird, but can I ask you for some advice?

He turned his phone off silent so that he might actually respond in a timely fashion to messages. He then returned to his work, letting absorb him almost completely.

            He was an hour in when he first heard the tune of his phone.

            Edd: Hey.

            Tord: How are you?

            Edd: Bad.

            Edd: I’m sorry, Tord. I really really fucked up the other night. I could never leave you. You’re my best friend. I was so selfish. This has taken a far worse toll on you than it has me. It’s not fair for me to pressure you. We’ll always be friends, no matter what.

            Tord: Edd, calm down. I forgive you. Don’t give yourself an anxiety attack.

            Edd: How can you forgive me so easily?

            Tord: Because my life is a dumpster fire rn and I need all the friends I have.

            Edd: What?

            Tord: You were right. I did end up hurting Matt.

            Edd: Oh god, what happened?

Tord didn’t immediately respond. He went back to work for a while as he considered how to answer Edd. Does he go into the details? Does he lie to make it seem like this didn’t happen during foreplay? Does he reveal how it started, over name mix-ups? Over a mix up of _his_ name with Matt’s?

            About an hour later, his phone dinged again.

            Tom: It’s all good dude. Water under the bridge. What do you need?

            Tord: I think I hurt Matt pretty bad. And idk how to make it up to him.

            Tom: What happened?

            Tord: He wants to change our arrangement. He doesn’t want to feel used anymore.

            Tom: Isn’t he using you, too?

            Tord: He told you about that?!

            Tom: Yeah. Not like I couldn’t’ve figured it out myself.

            Tord: He doesn’t want to use me either.

            Tom: So what does he want?

            Tord: I…I don’t know. I’m not sure how, but he wants things to change.

            Tom: Okay, step 1: talk to him. You two need to get on the same page.

            Tord: Yeah, true. Thank you Tom.

            Tom: Anytime dude. Keep me posted.

He finally felt prepared to respond to Edd, after relaying things pretty innocuously to Tom.

            Tord: He doesn’t want to just fuckbuddies anymore. We had a fight about it.

            Edd: Did he admit he likes you?

            Tord: No.

            Edd: But you know he does.

            Tord: You won’t let me forget it.

            Edd: Have you talked to him yet?

            Tord: No, I haven’t seen him since he stormed off last night. Idk if I can tonight though. He’s working a late shift.

            Edd: Damn. Well, talk to him as soon as you can.

            Tord: I will.

            Edd: Good. If you need anything, I’m here.

            Tord: Thanks Edd. But can I be real with you about something?

            Edd: Course!

            Tord: He hurt me too.

            Edd: What happened?

            Tord: He made a weird move on me without my consent and it freaked me out. I’ve never been scared of Matt before but in that moment….

            Edd: I know I’ll regret asking, but what did he do?

            Tord: He clamped his hand over my mouth, wouldn’t let me speak. He looked so angry.

            Edd: What prompted that?!

            Tord: Uh…I almost slipped up and called him by a past partner’s name.

            Edd: Oh shit. Like, I get why that’d upset him but also his reaction was uncalled for. I’m so sorry. Can I do anything to help?

            Tord: Idk. Just talking about it helped a bit. Thanks for listening.

            Edd: Anytime dude.

With those conversations out of the way, Tord could finally get deep into his work. He felt the world drift away as he continued tinkering and connecting wires and testing connections. The voices even stayed quiet. While drugs and alcohol and sex were temporary fixes, burying himself in work was actually the best solution. He knew he should just set up a small workshop in his room and throw out his cigars and vodka and cocaine. Set himself up on a project every time the voices started bitching. Or when he felt like burning holes into his skin. Or when he felt like disappearing or throwing himself out his window and praying the fall was enough to crack his skull. Maybe Matt could help him with that sometime.

The first sign that he’d been there far too long was a low rumbling in his stomach. Then his throat felt like a desert. Then his bladder felt like a balloon about to burst. That was the straw that broke his back, and he stiffly dragged himself to the tiny single-stall bathroom the workshop had. Upon returning, he checked his phone finally. 23:46. Holy shit, he’d been working non-stop for almost 5 hours! God, he needed to go home. He could finish this tomorrow—not like things would work tonight, anyways. He put his work and tools away, shut off the lights, and locked the backdoor behind him.

The apartment was eerily quiet. As expected, Matt wasn’t home. Tord checked the kitchen, but was unsurprised to find no note. Of course Matt wouldn’t want to talk to him after last night. He stripped in the middle of the living room, feeling confident in the fact that Matt wouldn’t be home for another couple hours. He took a shower and changed, but went back out to the kitchen. He dug through the fridge to see if it had what he wanted, but to no avail. Without another thought, he threw on sweatpants and walked through the chilly night air to the corner store.

When he returned, it only took about half-an-hour to get things set up. He was in bed by 1:30. A while later, he heard the front door open through his sleep-hazed mind. He drowsily hoped that Matt liked the cookies he’d made him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Russian translation: До свидания = goodbye


	7. Fake Chapter sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry

Hi sorry this is just an apology, not a real chapter. 

So, I've got the next chapter almost ready to go, just a bit more editing to do. It was supposed to be up like a week ago. But I was in a very, very deep depression and then Sunday morning I had to have my appendix removed in an emergency surgery. So now I'm recovering from that and am tired and sore constantly. Which has resulted in not being very productive.

So yeah, that's why I've been so quiet. Apologies again! I really do want this chapter posted in a day or two, so I'll try to have it ready! I'll delete this when I post the real chapter. Thanks fammmmm

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'll be posting the next chapter (which will be similar to this) as soon as possible. But I am going to be out of town on vacation for the next week. I'll have my laptop, but idk if I'll have time to edit/post. We'll see!
> 
> See you soon! Thanks again!


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